Wasted Time
by Naseka
Summary: In 2001, Crown Prince Philippe went smimming with his brother Pierre at the family's private beach, one month before his coronation. When he failed to return, he was assumed dead and his daughter took his place as Monarch.
1. Chapter 1

Started this a while ago. Will not be very long between updates, as remaining 4 chapters are written and ready for me to edit them.

* * *

2001

She knew it was coming, it had been almost two years since her husband was diagnosed with cancer, yet it was still a shock for her when he finally died. In the beginning he'd kept the news to himself, not bothering to seek treatment. He couldn't have cancer, that sort of thing only ever happened to normal people. So he acted as if he were healthy and continued with his life, but as his condition worsened, he decided to share the news with his wife. She cried at first, but eventually accepted it, offering her support and love. When he died in worse pain than he could ever have imagined, Clarisse was devastated. That was six months ago now and though the pain of losing him had died down, her thoughts were still with him.

In remembrance of him, Clarisse, along with her two sons and the necessary staff, chose to spend two weeks at their favourite holiday destination. Rupert used to love the beach, he and the boys liked to swim out to what they called the 'Summer Castle' which was essentially a flat rock they liked to sit on in the middle of the water surrounded by walls of more rock. Being Genovia, the beach was below an overshadowing cliff and was very rocky.

Only five members of staff had accompanied the family on their holiday, as there was limited accommodation at the beach house. The royal nurse, a cook - as no Renaldi would dare touch a frying pan - and three security men. In the absence of their head of security, who had chosen to take his own leave at the time, Shades had been left in charge of the men.

The queen never went into the water, as their private beach was somewhat rocky, but she still dressed the part in her black shorts and floral shirt, a large sunhat sat resting on her head. She only ever sat on the beach reading her books or watching the boys swim in the water, ever concerned that they would hurt themselves on a rock - or worse, drown.

Philippe and Pierre threw off their clothes and ran naked into the water, as they had done when they were children. Momentarily their mother looked up, dropped her jaw and then shook her head, returning to her book. They splashed around for an hour or so, Philippe trying to dunk his older brother's head under the water. Even though they were grown men, they still behaved like children around water. Philippe liked to swim down to the bottom and stay there until he ran out of breath, then he'd quickly rise to the surface and suck in as much air as possible. He always scared Pierre by staying under so long, as well as his mother. It was a trick he'd learnt from his father and received much joy from it. Pierre would still strike him over the head when he pulled that prank, this...man of god, "You frightened me," he would say.

They returned to the shore for their lunch, and like the old days, shook the water from their bodies right onto their mother.

"Oh!" She got up and tried to get away from them, "You wicked boys!"

They gave chase, but not for long, as she ran into the house and locked the door behind her, "Ha!"

Looking at her through the glass with slight amusement, Phillipe rubbed his wet, salty hair on the glass.

"Thankyou. Thankyou very much," Clarisse placed her hands on her hips as the two of them walked off, "Put your damned pants on, I will not be seen dining with naked men."

Discarding her sunhat on the bench, she unlocked the door and sat at the table. Cook brought over the gourmet sandwiches she had ordered earlier and placed them in the center of the table.

"Thankyou, Marine, would you mind cleaning the window, please?"

"Not at all, Ma'am."

Clarisse nodded her thanks and waited for her two sons to join her. A few minutes passed before they graced her with their presence and much to her liking, they had both worn shorts to lunch.

The two boys sat talking of a strange shiny object they had seen under the water, their mother was only mildly curious as to what it was, but Phillipe was confident he could dive down and grab it. He'd already tried twice, whatever it was was caught under a rock and he would have to dive below another rock to get to it. It would require further investigation. Clarisse was somewhat concerned about him diving down for something that was most likely seajunk, and advised him against it, with suggestions of other things they might do instead. But her son was unconvinced and continued to obsess over the "Treasure".

"No, mother, I'm far too curious about it now. What if father left it down there last time we came here? He was always doing things like that. I'm going in after it."

"But what if you run out of breath or hit your head on a rock? You need to keep it in perfect shape for when the archbishop places the crown on it next month," she commented rather cheerily.

Philippe shook his head, irritated by his mother's constant reminder of duty, "I know, mother, you remind me every day."

Clarisse took a sip of water and continued, "We don't want our new king covered in bandages."

"Every damn day," Philippe muttered to himself.

"I just know you're going to make as good a king as your father."

Philippe slammed his hand down on the table, "Can't we have just one day where you see me first and foremost as your son?"

"Darling," she reached out to him, "I love you boys more than life itself, but we have to remember we have a duty."

"Well I don't," Pierre interjected, but was ignored as usual.

"I thought we came here to forget duty for a few days," Philippe snapped, grabbing two sandwiches from the plate and standing up. He kissed his mother on the cheek and slid the door open to go and eat outside. The remaining two ate in silence for a while. Clarisse was studying her eldest son's face, "Your brother acted strangely just now. Is there something I should know?"

Pierre bit into his cucumber sandwich and slightly waved his other hand, "He's just having some pre-coronation jitters."

Nodding awkwardly, Clarisse went back to her own food and eyed him suspiciously. More silence followed, which was not uncommon, as they'd run out of things to talk about when Pierre abdicated two years ago.

Later on they went back outside, Clarisse went back to her sun lounge and book, while Pierre joined his brother, who was burying his own feet in the sand, "Ready to find that sunken treasure?"

"I'll meet you out there."

Pierre nodded and began taking off his shorts, his brother, however, walked over to their mother and knelt beside her, "I apologize for walking out before, it was terribly rude of me."

He planted a long kiss on her cheek and gave her a hug before turning away and running out in to the water. Clarisse smiled curiously and watched until he caught up with Pierre, then went back to her book.

Two hours later she had fallen asleep in the sun lounge under the protection of a large beach umbrella, her book had fallen into her lap and closed. She was having the sweetest dream that her husband was still here with them, enjoying the sun, reading a book beside her as they watched the two boys they'd made together play in the ocean. He wasn't sick and dying in the dream, he was radiant and healthy. He didn't look himself at all. For one, she realised he appeared to have a chiselled body. And a tan. And his face was not the face of the man she married, but another man she worked close with everyday. But her dreams were quickly forgotten when she was startled awake by Shades, "Your majesty, it is my duty to inform you that the prince has disappeared."

Suddenly sitting bolt upright, she removed her sunglasses, "He's what?"

"We're searching the area, but we've yet to locate him."

"Where's Pierre?"

"He's in the first search party, they've gone looking around the rock where he disappeared, out in the water."

Clarisse got up out of her chair and hurried to the water's edge. She put a hand over her eyes to block the sun as she searched the water for him. No sign.

"He's probably just doing this for a practical joke. He'll come running back when his tummy starts to rumble."

"I think perhaps you had better speak with Pierre."

The look she gave him was of undeniable concern, "Bring him to me."

Half an hour later Pierre stumbled ashore exhaustedly and reached for his towel, "He's gone!"

Tears were present on his already wet face, Clarisse became extremely worried, "What happened out there?"

"We...we were searching for that object in the water, I'd go down and try to get it, then he would go down, then me again, then him. But the last time he went down, he didn't come back up. I thought he was trying to give me a fright like he usually does, but when five minutes passed, I began panicking. I swam around looking for him, but I couldn't find him anywhere. Then..."

Pierre's eyes went to his feet and he shifted uncomfortably, "I saw...red in the water. Blood maybe."

A tear fell from Clarisse's eye and she covered her mouth with her hand, "No."

"When I came back, I informed the men, but...what if he drowned, mum?"

"Don't say that," she begged him, tears welling up in her eyes as she pulled him into a hug, "Don't you dare say that about your brother. He's just playing with us, I know it. He's probably tucked up in bed. Did anyone check?"

The beach rescue crew arrived shortly, as well as the police. All had come to find out what happened and to scour the area for the missing heir. Soon, special divers were preparing to search the bottom of the sea for his body.

"I told them not to go looking for that...thing!" The queens voice staggered as she spoke to nobody in particular, "I told them..."

It would be dark soon. She had been told it was difficult to find people in the dark, but was told not to give up hope. Clarisse sat distraught as she watched, unable to help in any way, so she began looking for someone to blame. She started with the guards, who were supposed to be watching her children as they swam. They suffered a long hour of angry words for allowing Philippe to get out of their sight. Clarisse was so upset, that she even turned on Pierre momentarily before breaking down again and apologising.

"If Joseph were here, this never would of happened," she cried into her son's chest, "It was selfish of him to take time off when I...when we need him the most."

"You can't blame someone who's not here."

"I know, "I just wish he...oh."

Before long, the sun had gone down, but the search continued. Clarisse sat stiff in the lounge she had spent majority of the day in. Her eyes hadn't left the ocean since she'd heard and it didn't look as if she was going to forget anytime soon. He can't be dead, she told herself, he's taking the throne next month. He's going to run the country. He has so much to live for...

She wiped her eye with a hanky and sipped her glass of water. Crying and worrying had made her exhausted, but she couldn't sleep, not while he could still be out there. They hadn't found his body, that gave her some hope. And she would not rest until he either came laughing out of the water, or dragged out. One of the guards put a hand on her shoulder and asked her to come inside as it was getting cold out, but she refused and focused her eyes back on the water. He threw a blanket around her and went back inside.

They allowed her to sit there another hour before they insisted she come inside and get warm, which again, she refused. They then offered her some tea which unbeknownst to her contained a sedative that sent her to sleep. Pierre didn't want to drug his mother, but he didn't want her to catch a cold or stay up all night worrying either, so he had given the order and watched as she slumped down in her chair and was carried to bed.

The following morning, Pierre was awake and asking the search team if they'd found anything. Apparently the prince had disappeared without a trace, but they would continue searching. The blood Pierre claimed to have seen in the water led them to believe he'd been taken by a shark perhaps. They weren't common in the area, but on occasion they had been known to attack swimmers.

He'd been missing for twelve hours now and the hope of finding him was dwindling every minute. If he'd spent the night out in the cold ocean, even clinging to a rock, there was a great chance he was dead.

The search continued for a whole week until every inch of water and shore, as well as the surrounding area, had all been searched thrice. The queen had insisted she and her son remain there until the search was over, but after a week and a half of searching, the men began to leave. She had desperately tried to get Joseph on his cell phone - because if anyone could find her son it was him- but he had not responded. Still, she persisted.

Another week found her back at the palace, still worried, still sleep deprived, still unable to accept that her son could be dead. She tried to concentrate on the job, but it was impossible now. It didn't help that her surviving son spent every waking moment in the chapel praying for Philippe's safety, rather than reassuring his mother. Every day brought her more grief as they were no closer to locating her son. He had vanished into thin air, just like magic. Her dreams were tainted with images of her son struggling for breath or being attacked by a shark. She would wake up in a panicked sweat half the time and was virtually inconsolable. Not having her closest companion around didn't help. She had Charlotte call Joseph's phone several times a day, but to no avail. Perhaps he didn't take it with him to Africa? Perhaps he was in the middle of nowhere and couldn't get reception? Perhaps he had been attacked by a wild animal? No, she must not burden herself with silly thoughts. But she would have words with him when he returned.

It wasn't until a whole month had passed that Clarisse was finally beginning to accept that she would never see her son again. She had taken to spending her evenings sipping tea and looking at old photos of their family. They filled her with happy memories that made her cry. After searching through six albums, she found one of her favourite photos - Rupert and the two boys sitting on a matress as it sailed down a shiny ramp. It was taken over thirty years ago, but she still remembered that day. Pierre had tried to copy his mother by going down the ramp standing up, but had lost balance and hit his head on the smooth metal surface. He was concussed for quite some time. Clarisse remembered how frantic she had been that day, he was the future king - he couldn't be defeated by a mattress. Withdrawing the photo from its sleeve, she decided she would have it enlarged and framed and hung above the fireplace. Carefully she slid it into an envelope and placed it next to the album it had came from. Then came a knock at the door. Startled, she looked up. Nobody ever knocked on her door, they were always announced by the guards. Everyone except...

"Joseph?" She stood up as the door opened gently and her darkly dressed head of security walked through, hands by his side.

"I'm so sorry, Clarisse."

Tears welled in her eyes once more as she moved quickly and threw her arms around him. She sobbed into his jacket, warming his chest with her tears. He seemed uneasy as he held her, perhaps the death of her son had affected him too.

"Where have you been?" She squeaked and looked up to meet his eyes.

"I came back as soon as I heard. I was in a remote area so I didn't bother to take my cell with me."

Blinking away the tears in her eyes, she put a hand on his cheek, "It never would have happened if you had been here, I know it in my heart."

"Hush, hush," he whispered, holding her tighter, "The men did their best, and deserve no blame."

Joseph listened to her sobs and wished there was something he could do to calm her. He found himself rubbing her back gently, which she seemed to appreciate.

"What am I to do without him? The Von Trokkens are moving in on us already."

Joseph cringed, the thought of them running the country was quite harrowing, but if they did take over, she would have no more obligation to Genovia and therefore free to leave. The thought pleased him, "If they take the throne, you can always leave and start a new life."

"This is the only life I've ever known. I practically grew up in the palace and have lived here ever since. I can't just walk away."

Pulling away from him, she sat back down on the couch and put her head in her hands.

Joseph sat beside her and placed a comforting hand on her back, "You will not have a choice in this, Clarisse. Genovia will pass to the Baron and you will have to move on. Whatever happens, I will remain by your side."

"I know you will," she lifted her head and watched as he took her hand, "But I'm not quite ready to give up yet."

"Clarisse," he whispered, as she began clearing up her photo albums, "It's been a whole month with no word. Every day that passes increases the chance that the prince is...not with us anymore."

Picking up her albums and carrying them over to the shelf from which they came, she sighed and began putting them away, "I am aware that my son is likely dead, Joseph, I'm not denying it. But there may be a small chance he is still alive and it gives me hope."

Joseph sighed and picked up the envelope on the table, smiling sadly as he observed its contents, "What will you do if after two years, Philippe is not found and is declared legally dead? You cannot continue to rule in his place while he's missing in action with no heir apparent. Parliament won't buy it, the people won't buy it. Your best choice is to simply walk out now with your dignity. You have no birthright."

"No, but I do have a granddaughter. She will rule."

Joseph considered this for a moment, "The artist's daughter? You think an American can rule your country?"

"She's still young, she can be educated in her duties. Best of all Philippe was married to the woman, so the child is legitimate. It appears to be my only option."

"And meanwhile you can remain queen," he sounded somewhat unimpressed, his dreams of running away with her went out the window.

She clapped her hands together, "Yes. Now I will need you to make the arrangements for our upcoming trip to America."

"What if she doesn't want it?"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand?"

He repeated himself, "What if she doesn't wish to govern our nation?"

"Don't be silly, Joseph, what young girl has never dreamed of being a princess?"


	2. Chapter 2

2006

It was the first time she had returned to the beach house since Philippe's death. It had scarred her so badly, she hadn't wanted to set foot in it since. But the hole he left in her heart when he disappeared had been filled by her new husband and she was finally ready to return to the beach. Joseph could tell she was still subconciously searching for her lost son out in the water, but he chose to ignore it. It had been over six years since he disappeared and he had long been considered legally dead. He found it unnerving that his wife had wanted to come here after so long, wondering what had changed her mind about this place. They were there to spend their honeymoon focussing on each other, rather than what had happened in the past.

The house was cleaned regularly, though it hadn't been used since they left it five years ago. Joseph had insisted they didn't bring staff with them on this trip, but his wife convinced him that she needed at least one person to watch their back while asleep and so they had compromised and brought Felix and Priscilla. And of course, Maurice came aswell.

Once the newlyweds had settled in they headed off for a walk. Maurice ran ahead, leaving his masters trailing behind. They held hands - something they rarely had an opportunity to do, as in the past they would recieve unwanted stares if they were at the palace. Yet now they were married and they could walk around in whatever manner they chose to, so their hands were rarely separated now. As they walked along the sand, the tide washed over their feet and Clarisse jumped, apparently startled.

"It's just water, my dear," Joseph reassured her, kissing her hand, "It won't hurt you."

_It hurt my son, _she thought to herself, before lightening up and smiling at him. She rested her head on his shoulder and they continued on. The two had been walking together for years, but were never allowed to be intimate, which was hard on both of them. Being married changed everything. Though Clarisse had told Joseph to keep his affections to a bare minimum while in public, he couldn't help himself. She wasn't against holding hands in public, but kissing or intimate touching was something that just shouldn't be done in front of people. After all, they weren't teenagers anymore. But here at their private beach he could touch her anywhere he wanted and get away with it.

The two stopped when they came to a rock big enough and flat enough for them to sit on. Joseph wanted to hold her and enjoy the view, but he couldn't help but feel his bride's mind was elsewhere.

"My darling, is something troubling you?"

Wind blew through her hair, causing it to mess and blow in her face, "No," she lied, "I'm fine."

Moving his arm around her shoulder, he kissed the side of her face, "It's been six years."

"I know," she pushed the hair out of her eyes, "I was just thinking about how happy I am now. While his memory still lives on inside me, I look forward to making new memories with you."

Joseph had been a valuable friend to her after her son disappeared. He was her shoulder to cry on, a trusted advisor and overall confidant. He'd kept her calm whenever she'd blame herself for not being awake while the boys were swimming. There was nothing she could have done, Joseph knew that well enough, but convincing her had taken some time. On occasion she would have bad dreams and call for him in the middle of the night, he would be there within minutes dressed in whatever he went to bed wearing. Most of the time she just wanted someone to be there while she slept. Joseph would sit on the bed stroking her hair as she drifted back to sleep. He would watch her for up to an hour before he left the room. It made him feel special to have her rely on him so much.

"I was thinking of baking some muffins when we get back to the house. My mother's recipe," Joseph said.

"Sounds wonderful, dear."

"I'll let you lick the spoon."

Smiling, she kissed his cheek and admired the lines on his face. They had known each other for over thirty years now.

"I wonder how Mia is doing. She hasn't called today with any queries."

"I'm sure she's doing fine. She likely hasn't called because she's aware that we're on our honeymoon."

"I just worry about her. She still has so much to learn and although she's won over majority of parliament, some Lords still don't believe she deserves the crown."

"The crown is her birthright, their opinions are mute."

"Then there's the wedding to plan. I would have liked them to wait a year, but the longer they postpone, the greater the chance they will give into their desires and end up in bed together."

Joseph retracted his arm and gave her a confused look, "Mia is 23 and Nicholas is 25. Clarisse, they're having sex."

Shaking her head, she sighed, "I made a point that she must abstain from sex until her wedding night and she gave me her word."

"When I walked past her suite the other morning, the young lad came out with his tie over his shoulder and his trousers unzipped. We had a conversation on the way to breakfast-"

"Yes, thankyou very much for ruining my afternoon. Remind me to put Mia on birth control when we return to the palace."

"I shouldn't worry about that, I'm told she's already-"

"Can we change the subject, please?"

"Of course," Joseph shifted, the rock was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute, "Very well. They've lowered the price on that house we looked at on Hershan lane. Remember the one on the large block? Stunningly renovated, only four bedrooms, but with convertible loft space."

She shook her head and sighed, "We need at least six bedrooms, I don't know how many times I've mentioned that now."

"Darling, we don't need all those rooms. We are two people for heaven's sake."

"We will be four people and I will not have those two sharing a bedroom," she pointed back in the direction of the house, in reference to the two employees.

An unsurprised grin came to Joseph's face, "I thought we were going to try living on our own for a time?"

"No," she slid down from the rock and waited for him to follow, "I don't think I would enjoy my retirement if I had to cook, clean and run my own bath. I've compromised yet again with only having two staff members and a three-times-a-week gardener. I was never meant to do all these things myself."

_Actually, that's why you were born with both arms and legs,_ Joseph thought to himself, rather than risk his marriage by saying it out loud. He slid down from the rock and held his arm out for her to take it.

As they walked back, a sudden chill surrounded the area and the wind picked up. There was no more talk of the house they were looking to buy and Joseph decided not to press the matter. Sometimes he wanted to argue the fact that he was right about something, but she'd been his boss for so many years that he'd gotten used to not talking back to her. He was well and truly whipped.

True to his word, Joseph baked the muffins on their return and offered one to his wife. At first she was cautious of them due to the unusual smell, but after tasting a bite her eyes lit up and she placed another on her plate. It made Joseph smile to see her enjoying something he had made. Perhaps tomorrow he could cook breakfast. Or lunch or dinner. Perhaps every day he could subtley find something useful to do in order to prove they could live together without pesky staff watching their every move. But he knew in his heart she was set in her ways and not willing to learn medial tasks that she'd never had to perform her entire life. It was hard enough convincing her they should move out of the palace in the first place. He had no intention spending the rest of his life living in the place he had spent working his whole life. Little things like that reminded him of the two very different worlds they came from. She had been waited on her whole life while he had to start from nothing and rise up in his career.

Clarisse woke in the middle of the night from the sound of Maurice scratching at the door and whimpering to get out. Deciding for once to not to wake her maid, she decided to let him out herself. She donned a dressing gown and walked to the bedroom door. Suddenly she realised she couldn't hear her husband snoring, so she flicked the lightswitch and turned the dimmer switch down to give her eyes a chance to adjust. She glanced briefly at the empty bed and headed towards the kitchen. He wasn't in there, but she did notice the sliding door was unlocked. Silently she slid it open and her dog ran out, immediately stopping by a plant to make his water. The night was warm, considering it was 3am and the water seemed somewhat calm. Joseph was nowhere in sight. _He hasn't gone sleep-swimming? Oh god, what will I do if I lose him here, too? _No. Those weren't rational thoughts. He'd just gone for a quick stroll because he couldnt sleep. Nevertheless, she walked to the water's edge, allowing the tide to wash over her warm feet. The water felt cool and relieving, just as it had on the day of Philippe's "accident" as she had been calling it.

Slowly she moved her foot through the water to make it splash and smiled, remembering the first time her sons went swimming. Pierre stood stiff, tapping the water with his feet to make sure it was safe, where his younger brother had just jumped in and splashed around. He was only four years old and not afraid of anything. Pierre at seven, was cautious of everything. He wouldn't even go on a playground slide unless his father was holding his hand.

_Those were the days_, she recollected. But life was more than grand now. She was married to a wonderful man who was as much in love with her as she was with him, her granddaughter was doing a wonderful job running the country. Life didn't get much better.

Closing her eyes, she let the fresh air fill her lungs, but was soon interrupted when she heard voices from further down the beach. Unable to understand what was being said, she whispered for Maurice to come to her as protection incase it wasn't Joseph she was hearing. Slowly and as quiet as she could, she stepped closer and closer until she saw two figures up ahead. They were still distant, but she could better make out what was being said.

"We...deal...can't...her."

Most definately that voice belonged to her husband. The second one, she was unsure of. The two were beside a large section of rock, a perfect camouflage for a midnight meeting, perhaps. She wondered who on earth had come to see him at this time of the night, especially since he'd told her he wanted as little people here as possible.

Continuing on, her curiousity grew and when she was within full listening distance, stopped and place a hand on her dog's rear, indicating for him to sit. They didn't appear to realise she was there, so she stood silently and listened.

"Why can't I see her?"

"You know why!"

"But I know she will want to see me. She still loves me, Joseph."

The unknown man's voice was elegant and familiar, but she couldn't quite place a face.

"I told you, you can't," Joseph's voice had become slightly louder, "You could ruin everything. It took me years to build up what we have, even longer for her to finally marry me. You can't just walk back into our lives and stir things up."

"I've been patient with you, Joseph, but I have every intention of seeing my mother. You can't keep her from me forever."

Clarisse was confused, Pierre wasn't supposed to return to Genovia for another week. And why didn't Joseph want him to see her? Perhaps they'd planned for him to surprise her by showing up a few days early?

"I think you should leave."

"Not without seeing my mother."

Clarisse's stomach turned and a knot caught in her throat. _It's not Pierre, _she thought quietly to herself. As tears started to roll down her face, she tried to mentally prepare herself. Having prayed for this day for so long, she wasn't coping with it as well as she imagined.

Maurice offered comfort as she slid herself down on the ground to rest in the sand. Her son was dead, it took her three years to stop being sad about it. The man Joseph was speaking to must be an imposter. The white poodle made squeaking sounds and the men seized talking. Footsteps came closer and closer until the moonlight brought Joseph's horrified face into view.

Her youngest son appeared behind him.

"Clarisse..." Joseph attempted a position in which he could kneel without causing pain, but settled for offering his hand, which she took.

"Good evening, mother," Philippe greeted her as if they had seen each other just yesterday.

Joseph shook his head at him before turning back to his crying wife, "Darling, I know you're probably confused right now-"

Swiftly she turned her head, not wanting to make eye contact with her dead son. Looking at him had the potential to make the situation real.

"Mum, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you such pain. Would you please look at me? It's been so long..."

Every word that came from his mouth forced another dagger into her heart. She regained herself a little, then turned to face him. It was too dark to see him properly, especially without her glasses, but she could make out some features. He was a little thinner, his hair had either been shaved or fallen out. The hair on his jaw was also not present. He had changed a lot since she last saw him, but he was most definately her son and for years she had longed to hold him in her arms.

Clarisse wiped the tears away delicately with her fingers, then wiped them on her gown. Slowly she stepped closer to her son and the tears returned immediately, "My boy."

Her arms slid around his waist, head buried into his chest. She held him and shook as she cried over how happy she was to see him.


	3. Chapter 3

At four thirty in the morning, Clarisse had managed to calm down long enough to talk with her son while Joseph made them tea. They had seated themselves far from the house to avoid awkward questions from Felix, should he happen to spy the mysterious man.

"I spent so many nights crying over you," Clarisse told her son, "Do you know how sick with worry I was after you disappeared? My son - my heir - just vanished without a trace. Have you any idea how much pain you caused?"

"I am sorry mother, but I had my reasons," Philippe stated, almost inaudibly.

"In all the time you've been gone, you never once thought to contact your mother and let her know you were alright?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"We thought you were dead! But now you're here and...I demand you tell me where you have been and what happened that day," Clarisse spoke up, hands shaking wildly as she attempted to rest them on her knees.

Philippe sat up straight and threw his hands in the air, "To put it bluntly, I faked my own death."

"Very blunt indeed," his mother replied in a mocking tone, "Might I ask why you decided to deceive you family and country?"

"I simply did not wish to rule. I told you this many times, but did you listen? 'Philippe is ready,' you would tell everyone, 'he was always jealous of his older brother' and 'it was a dream come true for him when Pierre abdicated'. 'The only thing my son has ever wanted in life was to sit the throne and rule his people.' But it was never that way. I never wanted to be king! I was devastated when Pierre told me he was joining the church. I had no intention of devoting my entire life to this country - that's something you made up in your own head! And I tried to tell you, mother, oh how I tried, but you just wouldn't hear it."

"And so you took matters into your own hands, not even thinking about what would happen if the Von Trokkens had their way? They could have ruined Genovia! And on your head it would have been. I almost gave up hope until I remembered your daughter."

Philippe sighed and leant back on the sand, "I admit I never imagined you would approach Mia, but I've been watching her progress on the news and she seems like an amazing ruler. She's serving the country with more heart than I ever could have."

A brief silence allowed Clarisse to reflect on the past. A few conversations with the younger Philippe came to mind and she soon realised that he had tried to explain his feelings many times and she'd ignored him. Shaking her head, she spoke softly, "I never realised you didn't want to be king. I just assumed and so I pushed you...it is my fault this happened."

"I probably would have stayed if you hadn't been so hellbent on making me king."

Her lip quivered, "I'm a bad mother."

"No," Philippe comforted her, "Not bad...just a little blind."

There was no conversation for a while. Clarisse was blaming herself for everything and had convinced herself that at some point her son must have hated her. She desperately wished she could turn back time and actually listen to his thoughts, instead of fabricating them in her own head. If she had just paid more attention to his feelings she could have saved herself a world of pain.

Joseph returned with the tea to an awkward silence. He stood still for a moment wondering how far the conversation had gotten. Silently he placed the tray of tea in the sand and sat beside his wife. He'd barely said a word since Clarisse walked in on their earlier conversation and until he was prompted, he intended to remain silent.

Philippe pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the time, before placing it back, then immediately forgetting what the phone read.

Clarisse sipped slowly on her tea and shakily placed the cup back on the tray, "My darling son," she smiled, taking his hand, "I apologise for making you feel uncomfortable with who you are. I should have listened."

He put an arm around her and kissed her temple, "Thankyou. I'm sorry for the pain I must have caused when I left."

Nodding, the tears returned.

Another brief silence followed, until Clarisse realised she knew very little about his disappearance, "You still haven't told me what happened the day you disappeared. How did you do it? I want to know every detail of how you vanished into thin air."

Philippe looked at his hands and entwined them with his mother's. He took a deep breath, "Pierre and I swam out to the summer castle after lunch and we stayed there for a while. We would take it in turns to dive for the treasure under the water, I made sure I went deeper and deeper every time to cause him to worry. He said his energy had run low and he didn't want to do it anymore, so I said I would try one more time. I dived deeper than I had before, swam under the rock wall, deliberately cutting my arm on a sharp rock before coming out the other side where I resurfaced and sucked in as much air as I could before jumping into the waiting boat. We paddled out far enough to start the engine without being heard and sped off towards the harbour. When we got there we boarded a vessel which took us to Africa and I've been living there happily ever since."

"Stop," Clarisse interrupted, holding up her hand, "I couldn't help but notice you continuously used the term 'we'. You were not alone in you deception?"

Joseph caught his wife's eye briefly, then turned away. He had been unsurprised that Philippe was still alive...angry at the fact he had returned, "Tell me it's not true..." She shook her head and stared teary-eyed at her husband, "You were on vacation-" her voiced squeaked.

Joseph had his head in his hands, rubbing his face. A lump formed in his throat, but he dared not speak until absolutely necessary.

"I have never loved or trusted any man as much as I have you. For the sake of what we have together, tell me you had no part in this."

He couldn't even look at her, he felt so ashamed, "I'm sorry," he sobbed into his hands, "But I had my reasons."

Clarisse struggled to believe what she was hearing. First her son returns from the dead and now she finds out her husband played a major part in it. Shaking, she released Philippe's hand and hugged her knees, feeling cold all of a sudden. She refused to make eye contact with either of them and stared at the sand in front of her.

Joseph glanced sideways at his upset wife and thought about what he could say to her. Once, when Clarisse was in mourning and he feared she would never be happy again, he had considered telling her the truth about her son. He even had a speech worked out in his head, but then reality sunk in and he realised she would not thank him for telling the truth and so he'd kept his silence. Now he was being pressed for his side of the story, but couldn't quite figure out where to begin.

Looking down at the ring on his finger, he smiled sadly, "Philippe and I used to work out a lot together in the gym under the ballroom. We'd practice our boxing, run on the treadmills side by side."

"On Fridays we'd do weights," Phillipe interrupted.

"We'd talk about various things. Cars, football...guy stuff. Then as our friendship grew, we spoke of other things. Ambitions, dreams and feelings. After Rupert passed, the conversation always seemed to drift to you. I spoke of my infatuation with you, he would complain about how you never listened to him and refused to acknowledge his desire to be free. After several weeks, he mentioned that he had contemplated suicide."

Clarisse turned to her son with glistening eyes, searching for a response. She didn't want to believe it, but when he nodded, her heart tore in two. How could she have been so blind to her son's feelings? She felt such a terrible mother.

"Joe manage to talk me out of it...it was a silly idea. He offered an alternative."

Finally Clarisse allowed herself to look at Joseph. The last time she'd cried so hard was when she thought Philippe was dead. She felt weak all of a sudden and tired...

"We made a plan," Joseph told her, "I booked some time off, borrowed a friends' boat, and waited in the water quietly at the agreed time."

"Joseph gave me a chance to turn back, but when I climbed out of that water and rowed away, I felt a weight lifted from my shoulders. My burden was gone and I felt happy for the first time in months."

Nodding, Joseph recalled the glow Philippe seemed to have had that day, "A short time later we came to the marina, I knew a man with a large yacht who liked to travel the world by sea and he agreed to take us with him. Before we boarded, I threw a sack over Philippe's head and tied his hands together with rope, so the staff wouldn't ask questions."

Clarisse put her hand up to halt Joseph's story, "They wouldn't question a man being dragged onboard with a sack on his head?"

"Let's just say my dear friend Perry didn't make his money honestly."

Clarisse closed her eyes and stayed silent. Joseph lied to her and was friends with gangsters? Did she even know her husband at all?

"They took off the sack once I was in my room," Philippe had continued, "Then Perry introduced himself, drew an electric razor, removed my hair and dressed me in baggy clothes. I looked a completely different person. Nobody would recognise me."

Shaking her head, Clarisse sighed. It sounded as if they had enjoyed their escape plan, while she worried sick thinking he had drowned.

"It was a long journey to Africa," Joseph stated, "But we made good time."

"Joseph set me up in Egypt. He introduced me to some people who gave me a new identity and a job. I spent so much time studying the place as a boy, instead of having a childhood, that I was able to run tour groups. I've lived well, earned my own money and been quite happy. I am sorry for what I put you through."

Nobody had ever taught Clarisse how to feel in a situation like this. She didn't even know these situations could exist...not for her anyway, "Well as long as you enjoyed yourself," she mumbled bitterly, "When I think of all the great things you could have accomplished as king...it makes me feel..."

She wiped away falling tears and shook her head, struggling to find the words, "I feel disappointed! Why did your father and I waste our time with you? I..."

A waterfall of tears fell from her eyes as she stood up, "I'm relieved that you're alive...and I will never stop loving you as my son but...you've wasted your life! I'm sorry to say...but you could have done so much more...been so much better!"

Walking away from them, she went inside with her dog following close behind.

Joseph turned to Philippe and elbowed him quite violently in the ribs, "You realise you've just ruined my marriage."

Rubbing his side, Philippe shook his head, "You didn't have to help me."

Roughly, Joseph threw his arm around the younger man's neck and pulled him into a manly hug, "But I am happy to see you again."

"I miss our talks...and the rough-housing."

The two separated and smiled at each other. Phillipe spoke, "Why did it take so long for you and mum to get it together? I was expecting a wedding within a year or two."

"Things didn't exactly go to plan. When I returned, she was almost ready to give up...then she remembered your daughter."

Philippe hung his head in shame, "Yes, I never anticipated she would chase Amelia. I expected her to just walk away, give up the crown and turn to you."

"If only. She would do anything to keep the crown, and made it quite clear she could never be with me so long as she had a country to rule."

The prince nodded, "I'm sorry I rained on your parade."

Joseph gave a sad smile and sighed, "It has been eating me up inside for years. And maybe it's somewhat relieving to have it out in the open. I just hope we're strong enough to hold our marriage together."

"If it helps, I don't think mummy's ever been keen on divorce."

Philippe looked towards the house and noticed the bathroom light was on.

"You never said why you came back," Joseph stated.

Smiling awkwardly at the man who had recently become his stepfather, Philippe sighed and looked dreamily at the stars, "I want to meet my daughter."


	4. Chapter 4

By morning, Philippe had gone into hiding and Clarisse was almost back to normal, mildly greeting Joseph after he'd spent the night on the couch to give her some space. The conversation that followed had been small, but Joseph was relieved she acknowledged him at all. Aware that he must declare Philippe's intention of meeting his daughter, he treaded lightly around his wife. It was obvious she'd spent the night in tears as the bags under her eyes were dark and unflattering. She was making her own breakfast this morning, Joseph moved next to her and took a risk by placing his hand on her arm. She turned to him and tried to smile, "I've sent Felix and Priscilla home."

Joseph raised his eyebrows and nodded, almost shocked by the voluntary dismissal of her staff.

Clarisse took a breath and turned her head away, "I've had some time to think over...everything."

This was going to end badly, Joseph thought. The beginning of the end.

"I've decided you are owed a great deal of thanks. You saved my son's life. I thought all he ever wanted was to be crowned king, but on reflection...I realise...he tried to tell me so many times and I never listened. But you listened and were able to help him. Even if it was at the expense of my own happiness. My son means the world to me and he's alive today because of you, so thank you."

Gently, she took his hands and squeezed them. He blushed, surprised by her unexpected gratitude and willingness to forgive him.

"I apologise for leaving you in the dark, but..."

Nodding, she gave a slight smile and went back to making breakfast, "It's forgiven. Can I get you a bowl of cereal?"

Taken back, he nodded, "That would be lovely."

She smiled and found another bowl in the cupboard for him. He watched her fill the bowl and pour the milk. She appeared to have familiarised herself with the kitchen, a change from the other day in which she admitted to not running her own bath. Could she have changed overnight? Carefully Clarisse walked with the two bowls to the table and put them down, before returning to the drawer for spoons. She handed one to Joseph and sat down.

"Thanks," he was still dumbfounded at his wife's sudden domestication.

They ate in silence for a while, then Joseph took a deep breath and spoke, "Philippe wants to meet Mia."

Clarisse shrugged her shoulders, "The thought had already occurred to me...and I think taking him to the palace is a wonderful idea."

Shaking his head, Joseph frowned, "He will be thrown in jail for fraud if he's recognised. Luckily, he wishes to return to Egypt and remain dead, so little danger there, but have you considered how Mia will feel when she finds out her father has been alive this whole time?"

"I believe it will be a dream come true for Amelia. All she ever wanted was to meet her father. Pardon me, but did you just say he wishes to return to his false life?"

"It's what's best for everyone concerned. Mia continues her rule, Philippe avoids prison, the Renaldi family keeps its dignity."

"And I lose my son again."

"He'll keep in touch," Joseph assured her.

She hesitated to ask, "Where is he?"

"He's staying at the marina...in a sail boat he proudly purchased with his hard earned cash."

Relieved he was still in the country, Clarisse walked to the table and sat down, beginning her breakfast, "When will he return to Egypt?"

"A day or two, that's if he can't see Mia. Perhaps we could arrange for her to join us here for a few days. It would be adequately safer."

Nodding, she swallowed a spoonful of cereal, "Make the arrangements, they shall meet on the morrow."

It had come as a surprise to Mia that she had been summoned to her grandmother's honeymoon, and at first she had been reluctant to go. But she daren't defy her grandmother even now as Queen. She wanted to drive herself down, as she was rarely allowed to drive her "Baby", but Joseph had insisted on picking her up himself. She was one of only four Mustang owners in the country and would surely draw attention should anyone see her. The drive was only 40 minutes, but Mia was inquisitive, "Why am I joining you for what should be the most romantic time in your life?"

"Your grandmother insisted."

"And tell me again why I couldn't bring Nicholas?"

"There are only two seats available in the car."

"We could have taken a larger car."

Joseph didn't reply. Mia stared at him as he drove with his dark sunglasses and stern expression, "You have a surprise for me, don't you ,Joe?"

"Yes, my dear."

Mia smiled excitedly at first, then her thoughts turned to confusion, "What could you possibly give me that I don't already have? It's not clothes, is it?"

"No, my queen."

Mia lightly punched his shoulder, "I told you not to call me that."

Joseph smiled and concentrated on the road.

Soon they pulled up to the gates of the beach house and drove through. It was almost noon and the sun made the sand so white it was blinding. Shielding her eyes, Mia exited the car and had a look around, _so this is where my dad died,_ she thought to herself, the smile gone from her face. She walked along the sand until she came to the house and rang the bell. Joseph moved beside her and slid the door open, walking in and placing his keys on the bench.

"Mia," Clarisse smiled nervously, "Thankyou so much for coming on such short notice."

"That's...alright," she smiled, sensing her grandmother's nerves. What was wrong? Her grandmother was never nervous, "So I hear you have a surprise for me?"

The two ladies sat down, while Joseph again made tea. He often made the tea when Priscilla wasn't around, mostly because his wife was unfamiliar with working the "kettle machine".

"Mia, I have a delicate matter to discuss with you. You are a wonderful ruler, the whole country loves you and nobody can take that away from you."

"Is this about Nicholas?"

"No," Clarisse smiled, "I don't know how to tell you this without upsetting you..."

Mia's eyes widened, "Parliament aren't going to try and make me get married again and pop out a couple of kids are they? I've already told them I will do these things when I'm ready. Just because you were a mother at 19, doesn't mean I've fallen behind."

Shaking her head, Clarisse waited for Joseph to bring the tea over, then continued, "Your father-"

"-he died on this beach...yeah I know."

"He didn't die that day. I thought he did. We ALL thought he did," she turned to Joseph, "Well most of us. But he's returned...alive and well."

"My father is alive? Yeah, very funny grandma."

"This is no joke."

"Then how? Why?"

Joseph repeated the story of their escape plan. Why he did it, how long it took. What made him come back.

"He'd so proud of you, darling," Clarisse held her granddaughter's hand and almost cried, "He's been tracking your progress ever since you accepted your role as princess."

Mia was in total shock. This was not the surprise she was expecting, her father was supposed to be dead, not in hiding.

"Well if all this is true and you're not playing some cruel joke, then where is he? Hello? Dad?" She got up and walked over to one of the bedrooms, "Hello? Dad are you in there?"

Shaking her head and smiling at the joke she assumed was being played, she turned back towards the table to sit down, "I knew you were joking. Why would you do that?"

Silence fell as her grandmother looked towards the side door. Mia wasn't facing it, but froze when she heard it slide open, followed by footsteps. The smiled vanished from her face as he came towards her and she swallowed before turning her head slowly, finally realising this wasn't a joke.

"Mia," her father whispered cautiously, awaiting a response. She turned away from him, unsure of how to feel. She looked to her grandmother, whose eyes glistened as she held her hand over her mouth. Clarisse gave her a slight nod as Mia turned to look at the man again.

"Mia, this is your father."

"Hello, sweetheart," he said, unmoving as he waited for her to collect herself.

She was trying to place his face to the few photos she had stared at for hours on end when she was a girl. He'd changed completely, but his eyes were the same. Turning to look at him she realised he was crying. She stood up and faced him properly. Joseph held Clarisse's hand and kissed it as they awaited the next move.

"You're my dad?" She stared into his eyes, "I don't know what to say."

"I'm so glad I'm finally meeting you," he cried, pulling her into him. Mia had never hugged her father before, and admittedly found it awkward. Her hands were stuck to her sides and she was stiff as a board.

He let her go so he could look at her, "You are so beautiful, just like your mother. She's done a wonderful job raising you."

Mia had so many questions for him, but didn't know where to begin. Five minutes ago she thought he was dead, but there he stood very much alive. She had fantasized about this moment ever since she was a girl, but now that it was here, she didn't know how to handle it.

Joseph took Clarisse's hand and led her outside to give them some space. He felt Mia would benefit more from having her father explain his disappearance himself. And he could answer all those awkward questions she would have. Perhaps offer her advice.

"I hope this goes well," Clarisse said, linking arms with her husband, "I've always wanted them to meet. They have much to discuss. So much lost time."

Joseph nodded and stopped to give her a hug, "I'm sorry for the part I played in this."

"It was the only option and I understand that. I'm simply overjoyed to have more time with the son I thought I would never get back. Any time spent with him is a blessing. I almost feel silly for all the nights I cried myself to sleep thinking he was dead."

"Hush," he placed a soft kiss on her lips, "It's in the past."

They took a long slow stroll along the shoreline and returned an hour later. Philippe and Mia had been sharing a joke after an apparently long session of tears and laughter. He'd told her everything that had happened and explained why he could never return to his former life even if he wanted to. He'd enquired after Helen, having heard about her marriage on the news. Though he wanted so badly to see her, he felt his presence might disrupt her marriage. Besides, she belonged to somebody else now.

"We're not interrupting, are we?" Joseph strolled in, walking casually to the table with his hands in his pockets.

"We were just getting to know each other," Phillippe smiled at his daughter, "She's an amazing woman."

Mia blushed and welcomed her grandparents back to the table, "Look what dad gave me," she held out her wrist, showing off the silver bangle he'd given her minutes before.

Clarisse touched the shining piece of metal and smiled, "Oho, I remember this," she admitted with a smile, "Rupert's mother used to wear this. I wondered what had happened to it. When we didn't find it among your possessions, we assumed it lost."

"I wanted to pass it on to her myself."

"And there it is," Clarisse tilted her head to view it from another angle, "Just as I remember it."

The conversation went the rest of the afternoon and well into the night. Mia was so happy to finally have a father, even if she couldn't shout it to the world. She knew when he left, they would still see each other. He'd promised her that when he handed her the bangle. He was going to call her weekly, write her using a pen name and send her photos from time to time. It would be sad to part, but there was no other option, should he reveal himself, he would incur jail time and Mia's crown would likely be protested and taken away. The family would be shamed and the name Renaldi quickly forgotten as the Von Trokkens moved in. It would have to become the best kept secret in Genovia.


	5. Chapter 5 - The end

After nearly a week of getting to know each other at the beach house, Mia and her father were forced to part ways. She had already overstayed her visit by three days and had missed an important parliament meeting. She dreaded to think what was discussed while she was away.

It was hard for her to leave, as she'd quickly become close with her father. They would still see each other, though not very often, as there were very few days in the year which they were both available at the same time. But in the time they'd shared, they had formed an unbreakable bond. They walked together, toasted marshmallows over a campfire, and just for fun, they had played "catch". In the last evening they shared, Philippe let Mia stand on his feet as they danced. He absolutely adored his daughter and wondered how on earth he could have stayed out of her life for so long. Not again, he wanted to be there for her every step of the way...well as much as he could be.

Philippe sailed home early in the morning after Joseph left to take Mia home. He was subjected to a teary eyed farewell from his mother, who had begged him to stay and live with herself and Joseph. But he would feel like a prisoner in Genovia, unable to leave the house. Mia returned to her duties and life became relatively normal again. Clarisse and Joseph continued their honeymoon at the beach, drinking fine wines everyday, speaking about recent events and going for walks with Maurice.

Joseph finally managed to convince his wife to come into the water for a swim, as she had never done before. He knew she feared the creatures living in the water and was afraid they may be lurking beneath the waves waiting to grab her. So when the water was at their waists and it was becoming harder to see the bottom, she would only progress further if he carried her. Without question, he did so, as she was not quite so heavy in the water as on land. Clarisse hadn't been carried like this since she was a little girl, but she still enjoyed it.

They reached deeper water - up to Joseph's chest - and Clarisse asked him not to go any further. Joseph took a few steps deeper and was rewarded with a melodramatic scream. He responded by allowing his body to fall back into the water and pulled her down until she finally let go, forcing her to touch the bottom with her feet. She squealed as some seaweed touched her ankles and she quickly paddled back in the direction from which she came. When her husband resurfaced, she turned to splash water in his face before trying to hold on to him again. He evaded her and she quickly tried to swim closer to the shore. It had been almost fifteen years since she'd been swimming and it was difficult to remember how to do it properly. If she wanted to avoid touching the ground again, she would have to learn quickly. Joseph however, swam in the palace pool nearly every night and was incredibly good at it. He enjoyed being under the water, he didn't spend much time above the surface, only to catch his breath. He liked to swim along the bottom with his chest lightly scraping the ground.

He kept his eyes open under the dark water and saw his wife struggling above. Quickly he seized the opportunity to swim under her and surprise her by popping up in front off her.

"Ahh," she seemed shocked at his sudden appearance. She clung to him immediately as he stood up in the shallower water. It was now up to his stomach. He returned to holding her in his arms and she appeared to be relieved. Her hair was drenched and untidy now and she was shivering slightly.

"You could have given me some warning, I do believe I've forgotten how to swim."

"We have plenty of time for you to learn."

"Perhaps, but not here, I don't like it."

When she could see the bottom of the sea again, Clarisse let herself slip back into the water and walked by herself. The water became shallow around her legs and was much warmer here, so she kneeled down and allowed herself to lay on her stomach with her head poking out of the water, "You know I've been thinking lately."

Joseph joined her and asked her to continue.

"We've spent the past two weeks here alone without staff and I must admit I don't...hate it. I assumed I would, but...it's shown me that perhaps we don't need a live-in maid...or security team. In time I could get used to it just being the two of us."

Eyes lighting up, Joseph smiled, "Are you saying what I hope you're saying?"

"Of course we'll need a regular house cleaner, gardener and laundry attendant. I don't wish to spend my retirement doing chores."

Joseph smiled before grabbing Clarisse's face and pressing his lips to hers. He then sat back glowing as she had finally compromised on the house situation.

Her face was red as she continued, "While you were swimming the other morning I looked over the brochure for Hershan Lane again and...I admit I wasn't being completely honest with myself when we viewed it. I didn't fully appreciate how wonderful it was because I was concerned it was too small. But on reflection, it is the most beautiful house we've seen and I can now see myself living there with just you."

"It would be easier for when Philippe comes to visit."

"Yes that had also crossed my mind. That's why I called the agent yesterday and put in an offer."

Joseph's hands went to his face as his jaw dropped, waiting for her next words.

"They accepted immediately and said we can move in mid-september."

Her husband stayed silent for a time, then held his hands on his cheeks, "This means more to me than you could ever imagine. You've made me the happiest man in the world...again! Thankyou."

He hugged her and kissed her cheek.

"Our first home together," she smiled gleefully and closed her eyes.

"I can't wait."

"It will take time to adapt to being just the two of us. I shall miss having people around to talk to and order about."

Clarisse's stared distantly at nothing in particular and became silent for a time.

"What are you thinking, my dear?"

"How happy I am," she closed her eyes and moved to lean her back against him, "I have my son and granddaughter back in my life, I'm on honeymoon with the man I love and we're soon to be starting our new life in our new house. I don't think life could get any better than this."

Joseph rubbed her shoulders and whispered into her ear, "No, everything is perfect."

Nodding, she ran a hand over her wet head, "We'll have the most magical Christmases."

"We will."

"Perhaps I can cook the roast."

"Perhaps," Joseph replied uncertain, "With practice."

She looked at her hands, "So many things I have to learn."

"And I'll be right beside you, every step of the way."

He pressed his lips to her neck and slid his hands around her waist. He was ecstatic she'd given in and bought the house he knew would be perfect for them. When Philippe had first shown up at the beach house, Joseph was afraid of what it would mean, but now he was grateful. There were no more secrets he had to keep from his wife, no lies, no cover-ups. They could have an honest marriage now and live out their days together just the two of them.

* * *

The End.

The idea behind this was that Philippe dying came suspiciously around the time he was supposed to be coronated and I thought - conspiracy! Never intended it to go more than 5 chapters, that's why it ends here.

Thankyou for all your lovely reviews - they keep my interest in writing. And thanks for reading.


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